


my heart on my sleeve (and your name on my wrist)

by meevees



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Claudeleth Week (Fire Emblem), F/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, claudeleth day 6 - fate, nothing else is really canon divergent, the pairings other than claudeleth are just mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25450837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meevees/pseuds/meevees
Summary: In a world where people are sometimes marked with the name of their soulmate, Claude has to juggle his connection to Byleth along with his many secrets.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring, Cyril/Lysithea von Ordelia, Flayn/Ignatz Victor, My Unit | Byleth/Claude von Riegan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 176





	my heart on my sleeve (and your name on my wrist)

Khalid has only just learned how to read when his soulmate’s name appears on his arm.

He knows the significance of the mark immediately, even though the word itself alludes him. He’s made his mother recount the story of the similar marks on her and his father’s arms dozens of times by now, after all.

His soulmate must be older than him Khalid muses, because he is already an excellent reader but still hasn’t even begun to practice writing yet. He also knows that his inability to read the name now etched upon his skin is not a reflection of his own skills. He is clever enough to recognize that the unfamiliar symbols are those of the Fodlanese alphabet, and while he speaks the language of his mother’s homeland he has not studied its writing at all. His tutors claim it would be too confusing to learn to read two languages at once, despite Khalid’s insistence that he is more than smart enough to do it. And petitioning his mother on the subject had only resulted in her traitorously agreeing with the tutors.

He’s far too curious about his soulmate’s name to wait until the adults decide it is appropriate to teach him, though, so he hurries to find his mother and have her read it for him.

Tiana’s expression when Khalid holds out his arm to show her is hard to read. Khalid can’t quite tell if his mother looks happy or sad. But she gives him a squeeze, tells him how lucky he is to have a soulmate out there waiting for him, and finally, when he’s squirming with anticipation, reads him their name.

The name buzzes around Khalid’s mind near constantly in the weeks that follow. Even though the tutors _still_ won’t teach him Fodlanese, he sets about memorizing this one word at least. And when he begins to write for himself he practices his soulmate’s signature alongside his own.

Byleth.

* * *

His soulmate is his best friend.

Which is maybe a little embarrassing, given that Khalid knows literally nothing about them other than their name. But it’s not like he has a plethora of options; his siblings ignore him at best and abuse him at worst, and other children his age mostly just spit on him and call him names before dashing off to play with each other without him.

Over the years he learned to trick himself into believing that it doesn’t bother him. But on the nights when that’s especially difficult, he likes to look up at the stars and imagine that his soulmate is somewhere in Fodlan looking up at them with him.

Khalid knows it is foolish to put a person he doesn’t even know up on a pedestal. He understands that being your soulmate does not automatically mean a person will be good to you, or even good at all. But he cannot help but attach himself to the appealing notion of a person who does not care about who his parents are, or where he comes from, or what he looks like. A person who understands and appreciates who he is in spite of all of those things other people hate him for, and maybe even because of them.

It was perhaps more foolish of him to project these ideals onto the people of Fodlan in general. But some days his belief in the grass being greener on the other side of the border was the only thing keeping him sane through the abuse and the hatred. So when the opportunity to go to Fodlan presented itself, he naturally jumped on the chance. Of course, he was hoping to find his soulmate, but he was also hoping to find a place where he felt like he belonged.

That turned out to be a rather spectacular let down. The people of Fodlan were even more prejudiced than those in Almyra, though their prejudices were perhaps subtler, and more insidious. As Claude he at least could be tentatively accepted into his new community, but it was bittersweet. After all, it was plain that Khalid would never be welcome here, and Claude was little more than a mask. 

This also brought with it the crushing realization that maybe his soulmate would not just accept him despite the color of his skin and the place of his birth. It was possible his soulmate had already rejected the very idea of him without getting to know him at all. The thought had never occurred to him before, but now it terrified him. He didn’t think he could take the heartbreak, and so despite it being one of his motivations for coming to Fodlan in the first place he resolved not to seek out his soulmate. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

As a result, finding her anyway completely blindsided him. There was little time for introductions with the bandits on their tails, but they at least exchanged names and that was enough. When Jeralt motioned to the young woman beside him and said “this is my child, Byleth” Claude thought he would forget how to breathe. His left forearm where his soulmate mark rested suddenly felt warm and tingly, and he had to resist the urge to reach out and take hold of it, lest anyone get suspicious. Dimitri picked up the slack to introduce him when Claude’s voice failed him. But in contrast to the emotional storm he felt raging inside of him, Byleth just stared back at him blankly, like he wasn’t anyone particularly interesting. 

That made sense. It didn’t say Claude on Byleth’s arm after all.

It suddenly felt necessary to his survival that Byleth not discover the truth about their connection, a reality that only intensified when he discovered she would be becoming a professor at the Officer’s Academy. His identity would be out in the open once she knew, breaking his promise to his parents and potentially risking all of his plans for the future. Plus, he couldn’t quite shake the fear of rejection that crept in the back of his mind.

In that sense, it was probably for the best that the Golden Deer’s house of underdogs would likely hold much less appeal for the new professor than the comparatively more impressive Blue Lions or Black Eagles. She would be working primarily with other students and he could keep his distance without it seeming odd or unusual for him to do so. But paradoxically he found himself disappointed at the prospect of her choosing a house other than his own, and wishing that somehow she would choose him. It was naive and needlessly risky, but he couldn’t help feeling a desire to get closer to her. 

Then, to the surprise of everyone including Claude himself, Byleth did choose the Golden Deer house. 

His feelings did not get any less paradoxical.

* * *

The Church of Seiros had a rather complicated relationship with the concept of soulmates. Church tenants decreed soulmates to be the will of the goddess, of course, but that got a little dicey when nobles and commoners turned out to be soulmates. That defied the whole social order of Fodlan, and by extension defied the teachings of the church, and people were generally dissuaded or even forbidden from partnering with their soulmate when this was the case. 

Claude wasn’t really sure how much the will of the goddess had anything to do with it. Soulmates were just as common in Almyra as they were in Fodlan after all, and the only person he’d ever known in his homeland who even believed in the goddess was his mother. Furthermore, it seemed pretty contradictory to him that something could simultaneously be the will of the goddess and also forbidden by the church. But like most things regarding the Church of Seiros, the people of Fodlan seemed to largely accept it as truth without question.

Because of all of this soulmates could sometimes be a taboo topic of conversation, particularly with the nobility, but that didn’t stop frequent gossip around the Officer’s Academy. It was fairly commonplace for people to first meet their soulmate at the academy, since young people gathered there from all over Fodlan. There were frequent whispers about who had a soulmate mark, what names they contained, and who they might represent. If a pair were to meet at Garreg Mach, everyone else wanted to be able to say that they had been a part of it.

Claude had remained secretive about his soulmate mark, as he was sure others likely had as well. Most of the time it was easy to be as flippant and avoidant as he was with the rest of his secrets. Fortunately Byleth hadn’t broached the subject with him at all, not that he would have really expected her to. He sometimes wondered what he would do if she ever asked him about it directly, since he found he had a harder time keeping himself closed off with her than he did with anyone else. 

Now that the ball was approaching, soulmates were really at the forefront of the gossip around the academy. It seemed inevitable when it finally came up in the Golden Deer classroom.

“Does anyone have a soulmate mark?” Initially, the question was followed by awkward silence, as everyone glanced around at each other. Flayn looked particularly nervous and fidgety in her seat, reaffirming Claude’s belief that he wasn’t the only one that was hiding something. But for the most part, heads shook ‘no’ and shoulders shrugged around the room. 

“You should show them yours, Ignatz!” Raphael suddenly burst out, nudging the smaller boy beside him with his elbow and nearly knocking him out of his chair. 

Every pair of eyes in the room locked on Ignatz, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor and disappear. “I. W-well . . . that’s sort of--”

“You have a soulmate mark, Ignatz?” Lysithea asked, mirroring the shock and curiosity of the rest of the class. 

“Yeah, it’s really cool and pretty, too!” Raphael barreled on enthusiastically, seemingly unaware of Ignatz’s growing discomfort. “Come on, show ‘em!”

It was obvious that no one in the room had any more intention of relenting than Raphael. So Ignatz let out a deep sigh, unbuttoned the cuff of his left shirt sleeve, and rolled it up to his elbow. Everyone crowded around to see the mark. It was written in a pristine, flowery script: _Cethleann_.

“Wow. It’s hard to imagine someone would have the audacity to name their child after one of the saints.” Lysithea observed.

“Unless it’s actually the real Saint Cethleann,” Raphael offered, “Ignatz and I used to talk about that when we were kids.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Raphael.” Leonie answered bluntly, “Everyone knows soulmate marks start to fade away when the person dies, and the saints have been dead for a thousand years. Even if that were somehow possible, there wouldn’t be anything to see.”

Ignatz’s face was so red by this point Claude thought he might actually pass out right in front of them all. Byleth seemed to notice as well, because she said “all right, that’s enough,” and shooed them all back to their seats and Ignatz quickly buttoned his sleeve back up.

But the conversation about soulmates wasn’t over just yet. Leave it to Hilda to be the one brazen enough to turn her attention frontward and ask, “Do you have a soulmate, Professor?”

Claude’s heart stopped. Byleth didn’t answer right away, and Claude hoped maybe she wouldn’t, but he wasn’t surprised when she released the straps on her armguard and slid it off. She held up her arm for them all to see and there it was, _Khalid_ , written in his own handwriting across her skin, just as he’d known it would be. He felt the panic rise in his chest, even though he knew it was illogical; even if anyone else in the room could miraculously read the mark somehow, no one would have any reason to associate it with him. 

“What does it say?” Leonie asked, her face scrunched up in confusion.

“I don’t know.” Byleth offered mildly, slipping her armguard back on and fastening the straps once again.

“Doesn’t that mean your soulmate is Almyran?” Hilda asked; her tone was nervous but there was a sparkle in her eye, like she couldn’t decide whether she was frightened or captivated by the idea, “Isn’t that kind of scary? I mean, Almyrans are pretty aggressive.”

“It’s not good to generalize like that.” Byleth corrected. It wasn’t really a strong enough response to Hilda’s well-intentioned prejudice, but it was better than almost anyone else around Garreg Mach would do. Most members of the church would promptly agree that Almyrans were scary and aggressive. 

Hilda was undeterred, “It’s kind of romantic too though. Almost like forbidden love. Oooooh, soulmates are so much fun! It must also be a lot of pressure though, living up to the other person’s expectations after they wait so long to meet you. So I think I’m happy that I don’t have one.”

“I don’t know, it all seems like a waste of time to me.” Leonie answered dryly, “I’ve got much more important things to worry about than love, and marriage, soulmate or not.”

Lorenz was the next to chime in with his opinion, “As the heir to house Gloucester, I do not have the luxury of marrying for love, but must find a partner most suitable to my house’s status. Obviously the goddess understands the importance of my forming a strategic union, and that is why she did not give me a soulmate.”

“I . . . also think it is for the best that I do not have a soulmate.” Lysithea added, uncharacteristically quiet and somber in her response.

No one else said anything right away, and after a moment Claude realized it was because all eyes were on him. They all expected him to have an opinion on the subject, and probably a mildly sacrilegious one at that. His reputation preceded him in that regard, so he could understand why they’d be eager to hear what he had to say. He’d set himself up for that.

He supposed there was no reason he couldn’t play along and give them what they wanted.

He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head, “Better to choose a partner based on a relationship that we choose to build together than to just do what some god tells me, I say.”

That seemed to be on par with the class’ expectations of him, although they were maybe not as prepared for it as they thought; the chatter turned a little nervous and quickly died down. His secret was safe for another day, not that he’d been particularly worried about it. For better or worse, secrets were second nature to Claude at this point.

Byleth was looking at him now. She’d grown more expressive in their time together, or maybe Claude had just gotten better at recognizing the subtleties of her emotions, or perhaps both. Regardless she was still sometimes frustratingly impossible to read, and this was definitely one of those times. He wasn’t sure what to make of the look in her eyes as she gazed at him, big eyes blinking slowly, but it made him want to squirm in his seat and look away from her.

Byleth may have been chosen for him, whether by the goddess, or fate, or whatever force brought soulmates together. But he also knew now that given the chance he would choose Byleth for himself, a hundred times over if he could. 

* * *

Claude regretted a lot of things about the night of the ball.

He regretted dancing with Byleth, for starters. He regretted getting to hold her and feel how perfectly their hands laced together, even in such a controlled circumstance, knowing it was just a taste of something he couldn’t really have. He regretted following Byleth up to the Goddess Tower, and regretted being so vulnerable when he talked to her there. He’d been so careful not to let his personal feelings get in the way of his goals up to this point, and these were the sort of risks that could see it all come crashing down around him.

But at the same time, Claude did not regret any of these things really. The closer he grew to Byleth the more he realized that she was a part of his dream. Achieving his dreams would be meaningless if she wasn’t there beside them when it happened, and that night on the Goddess Tower was when he resolved to find a way to make it happen no matter what. It was complicated, because he still could not really be honest with her, and when he finally could his long lived dishonesty could be the very thing that led her to reject him. 

But Claude was confident that if anyone would understand his reasons, it was Byleth. They were soulmates after all, so who could better understand him, besides the fact that it was simply Byleth’s way. But in the meantime he would do his best to show her, indirectly, and help her understand.

There were some things he earnestly did regret though. He regretted that thoughts of romance and the ball allowed them all to be distracted from their mission, and that in turned allowed their enemies to plot right under their noses. He regretted that their carelessness cost them Jeralt.

And when he found Byleth crying over Jeralt’s diary days later, he regretted that he couldn’t hold her and offer her comfort in this moment. He regretted that there was nothing he could do to make this right for her, not just as her soulmate but as her friend. Because he was certain at this point that at the least she was a very good and important friend of his, and hoped that she felt the same. But more than all of that he regretted that in her moment of deepest hurt he was selfish enough to put his own drive for answers first and take this last piece of her father away from her.

It would be worth it for both of them in the long run, Claude vowed. He would use the knowledge gained from Jeralt’s journal to get to the bottom of the church’s secrets, and to help Byleth find the answers she sought about herself but wouldn’t be willing to pursue as relentlessly as he was. 

And if he couldn’t make it right, if he couldn’t ease her pain himself, then Claude would focus on what he could do. And that started with finding the people who caused her this hurt in the first place.

* * *

When Byleth disappeared into Solon’s strange portal, Claude found himself surprised by how calm he felt. Whether it was a result of the bond they shared, or his unyielding confidence in her abilities, or both, Claude was certain that she had survived the ordeal, and that she would find her way back to them.

It was only in the aftermath of their battle with Solon that Claude started to feel uneasy. He wasn’t sure what sort of ritual Rhea had planned for Byleth in the Holy Tomb, but something about it left him apprehensive. In a strange way, he was somewhat relieved that Edelgard decided to crash their party, because before he’d even noticed the Imperial Army’s presence he’d already found himself raising his bow. He wasn’t sure where he planned to aim it or what he planned to do once he had, and the implications of his willingness to consider something so drastic alone were terrifying. But he had felt certain in that moment, more certain than he’d ever felt about anything, that he could not allow whatever Rhea intended to happen to Byleth here in the Holy Tomb to come to pass.

Fortunately, it hadn’t come to that.

Unfortunately, it had come to war with the Adrestian Empire. 

If Claude had thought he was uneasy leading up to their visit to the Holy Tomb, it was nothing compared to the sinking terror he felt as he looked around in the aftermath of the Battle of Garreg Mach and realized how long it had been since he’d last caught sight of Byleth. Even after the Knights of Seiros recalled seeing her fall into the ravine he and the rest of the Golden Deer desperately searched around the battlefield for her. When Judith arrived to escort him back to Derdriu before things could escalate any further, she had to physically drag him away from the monastery before he would relent and leave Byleth behind.

The rest of the class proceeded to mourn the loss of their dear professor, but Claude would not give up so easily. His insistence that she was still alive often left many tittering uncomfortably, and before long most people had learned to avoid bringing up the topic of Claude’s former professor in conversation with him altogether.

But they all just didn’t understand. Besides his confidence that he would have faith in Byleth no matter what, the mark on Claude’s arm remained as clear and sharp as it had always been. That meant that wherever Byleth had gone she was still alive. And _that_ meant, however long it took, Byleth would return to them one day. 

She had promised after all, and one thing he knew certain about his Teach was that she would never break a promise to her Golden Deer.

* * *

While Claude was not the least bit surprised to meet Byleth again at the Goddess Tower on the day that would have been the Millenium Festival, the relief he felt was overwhelming. He’d never doubted this day would come, but now that it was finally here he felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in five years. He’d spent all this time maintaining things in their tenuous state, making sure the Alliance at least could hold out until Byleth’s return, and now that she was here the two of them could once again start moving things forward together.

He had been tempted to confess everything right then and there, to tell her the truth about who he was and how he felt. If his plans worked out going forward it was the last time they were going to have to be properly alone for quite a while, but the timing just didn’t feel right. They were in the middle of a war, after all, and they could hardly afford to make thoughts of romantic partnerships a priority.

Not that soulmates had been entirely off the table amongst their forces in the months that followed. It was an unspoken expectation in strategy meetings and war councils that Linhardt and Caspar, who had known they were soulmates for most of their lives, were a single unit that would be moving together on the battlefield. And one day, while practicing a particularly difficult piece of magic, Lysithea had rolled up her sleeves and inadvertently revealed to Claude a mark that hadn’t been there before: in handwriting that looked like it could have belonged to a child, the letters large and oddly spaced and the r facing backwards, it read _CYRIL_.

Claude was earnestly happy for them all; comfort and happiness didn’t come easily in times of war, and he was glad that some of his dearest allies, who were sacrificing so much in the name of his ambitions, had each other to rely on. They deserved it. 

But it wasn’t exactly the same for him and Byleth. They were the leaders, and she particularly the glue that held their entire operation together. While he knew none of their allies would begrudge them the opportunity to be together, their expectations were simply different. Any concern that they were distracted from the battles before them would cause unrest amongst the troops. 

Still he had no choice but to put his ambitions ahead of Byleth for now.

* * *

The battle of Gronder Field was by far their most difficult so far, both strategically and emotionally. Everyone was injured, and tired, and melancholy, and when they had finally trudged their way back to Garreg Mach no one really felt like celebrating despite how big of a win it had been for them. Almost everyone returned to their quarters to lick their wounds and mourn their losses as soon as they arrived.

Claude was no exception. The Empire had come at them with every weapon in their arsenal in this fight, including an apparent abundance of fire projectiles. Claude could hardly blame them for their tactics, having employed a similar strategy when defending Garreg Mach from Randolph’s forces, but he couldn’t say he enjoyed being on the other side of it and he’d ended up taking a fireball to his left tricep. It had only grazed him, and so he’d done his best to fight through it so the morale of the troops wouldn’t be affected.

Now, removed from the immediacy and danger of the battle and the adrenaline that came with it, Claude was really feeling the pain. He removed his gloves and sash and set to the daunting task of getting out of his jacket. It was a struggle, and by the time he’d managed to gingerly ease his left arm out of the sleeve he was already tired from the effort. He left his tunic for now; he could feel the fabric of it sticking to his wound and was sure it was going to be a significantly worse ordeal to remove. 

Collapsing into his chair, Claude opened the drawer of his desk and began to rummage around. Most of his concoctions were meant for sabotaging opponents, but he was sure he must have some ointment that could help treat such a wound or at least ease the pain a little. But before he had the chance to find anything there was a knock on his door. Sending whoever it was away wouldn’t do any good in making them less worried about him, so he took a deep breath, steeled himself, and crossed his room to open the door.

He couldn’t say he was surprised to see Byleth waiting for him on the other side. She looked concerned, and she spoke as plainly as ever, “You were hurt during the battle.”

It was a lie he would have a hard time convincing anyone of at the moment, let alone Byleth, but Claude felt obligated to try regardless. He shrugged, a lopsided gesture given how tender his left arm was at the moment, and grinned, “I appreciate your concern, my friend, but it’s unnecessary. It’s nothing a little R and R won’t take care of.”

Byleth did not appear convinced. In fact, she looked downright unimpressed with his attempt to dismiss her, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed, “We both know that’s not true. Come here, let me have a look.”

She was obviously not taking no for an answer, and before Claude could even respond she was pushing him back from the doorway and entering the room, closing the door behind her. Claude was beginning to panic; they were skirting dangerous territory now, but he felt powerless to do much about it besides allow himself to be guided back into the chair.

Can you get this off on your own?” Byleth continued, tugging gently at the collar of his tunic.

There were several reasons removing that particular garment in front of Byleth was a terrible idea, and the soulmate mark on his forearm that he’d so carefully hidden for over five years was certainly not the least of them. But he was struggling to come up with an excuse that would actually deter her, “Teach, I promise you this is not necessary.”

“Stop being stubborn. You're obviously hurt.”

“It’s nothing I can’t take care of myself.”

Now Byleth looked frustrated. She let out a deep sigh and crossed her arms in front of her chest, “Are you really so horrified to let me see a soulmate mark I already know is there that you won’t let me help you?”

It took a moment for Claude’s brain to catch up with the reality of her words, and even then he was too shocked to react. When he finally pulled himself together again he could do little more than shake his head, eyes wide with disbelief, “Wait . . . you already knew?”

“Of course I did. You felt it that day in Remire Village too, didn’t you?”

Claude continued to stare at her. His mind was racing, replaying moments and conversations from their time together, trying to spot the signs he had missed, wondering how he had misinterpreted so completely. “I did, but that was because . . . since you didn’t know my name I thought . . .” he was floundering, and he knew it, but he couldn’t quite seem to pull it together, “but you never said anything!”

“Look who’s talking.” Byleth laughed. The twinkle in her eyes suggested she was getting a little too much enjoyment out of seeing him so flustered. 

“Well I know why _I_ was hiding it,” Claude answered, finally feeling himself start to calm down, “But I can’t imagine why you would have.”

Byleth shook her head, “It wasn’t like that. You obviously weren’t interested, and didn’t want to talk about it. I was just respecting your wishes.”

She turned her gaze toward the floor, abandoning eye contact with him. Claude’s horror began anew as he realized his problem was not that Byleth had in fact known the truth he thought he’d so carefully hidden from her all along, but that Byleth had misinterpreted his secrecy as rejection. 

He jumped out of his chair, wincing as he forgot to be careful with his injured arm, though that felt far away and unimportant at the moment. He took her by the shoulders, “No! No, you’ve got it all wrong, Teach. It was never about not being interested. It’s just, as I now realize you probably figured out a long time ago, I’m not being entirely honest about who I am. Since I have no choice but to maintain my dishonesty for now, I thought that meant I couldn’t have this, no matter how badly I wanted it.”

“You should have just told me. I would have respected your choice to keep it a secret.”

“It was never really you I was worried about,” Claude reassured, “I’m sure I don’t need to tell you I can be a bit overly cautious, especially with my secrets. But it also didn’t seem fair to put that burden on you. Had I realized I was only hurting you more all of this time . . . well, it’s safe to say I’ve never wished I could go back and do something all over more than I do at this moment.”

Finally, Byleth smiled, a mischievous sort of smile. “I suppose I can forgive you for it. On one condition.”

“Oh?”

Byleth glanced down at her own forearm, though the mark there was mostly obscured by her armguard, it was easy to know her meaning when she looked back up at him and said, “Tell me what it says?”

Habits die hard, and that was a wall Claude had spent a long time building up. So even though he trusted Byleth as completely in this as he did in all things, even though he truly wanted to tell her, he hesitated. When he did speak even he could hear how uncharacteristically soft his voice sounded, “. . .It’s Khalid.”

Byleth was smiling again, just the tiniest upturn of the corners of her mouth, her eyes shining and crinkling at the corners as she looked into his, “Khalid.”

Surprising even himself, Claude wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. His arm screamed in protest, but he paid it no mind as he buried his face in her hair. “Teach--”

“Byleth.” She cut him off before he could continue any further. The correction caused a surge of warmth to flood through him.

“Byleth. I . . . I’m not used to not knowing what to say, but I’m afraid the words are escaping me at the moment.”

Byleth pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes again. Her expression was stern, and just like that she was the professor and he a precocious seventeen year old again, “You can figure it out later. Right now you need to sit in that chair and let me treat your wounds.”

Claude smiled, “Whatever you say, Teach.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes I get bit by really random inspiration bugs, and the only way to make them go away is to write them out. So have yet another soulmate AU I guess.
> 
> I am still working on A Goddess Rises with the Dawn! I feel a lot of self-inflicted pressure to do right by the battle of the eagle and lion, which is making the next chapter a bit of a struggle to work through, but if you're following that as well hopefully you won't have to wait too long.
> 
> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Edit to add that I COMPLETELY forgot about Claudeleth week (and I'm so bummed because I really wanted to participate T-T) but this accidentally fit in with the day six theme of fate, and since my posting was accurately timed I'm retroactively tagging it as such >>;. Maybe I'll go back and do the others late as well.


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